


Car Crash Hearts

by Adictedtobadguys56



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Five Stages of Grief, Gay Sex, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Oral Sex, Sciles Big Bang, Underage Drinking, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adictedtobadguys56/pseuds/Adictedtobadguys56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creepy Stilinski hasn’t always been the outcast of the school. He used to be Jacksons best friend until his mom died. On a chance encounter Scott and Stiles get to spend an ample amount of time together trying to get their lives back together after a tragic car accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to check out the 8tracks mix that goes with the story.  
> http://8tracks.com/sassyshipper/car-crash-hearts

Scott always took the same path to class. He would walk past the nurse’s office then down the stairs, turn right, and finally past the girl’s restroom to get to Coach Finstock’s class. It was normal so usually he didn’t notice the people or their conversations but not today. Today Scott noticed when Stiles Stilinski walked by. The boy was clad in dark maroon skinny jeans with an oversized black hoodie that completely hid any form he might have had behind the baggy material. 

Scott wouldn’t usually notice him, after all no one ever noticed Stiles. Stiles Stilinski was like a ghost haunting their halls; they walked past him without even looking at him, or thinking about it, yet everyone talked about him. His mom had died when he was in seventh grade and Stiles seemed to have lost it. It became very apparent when he bashed Jackson’s head into a locker. The restraining order still stood strong to this very day. People claimed he was possessed by a demon because how else could such a small kid destroy such a handsome face. 

Scott paused, just outside the door to his class room and looked at him. Stiles had a round face and amber eyes. Amber eyes that seemed almost empty. If eyes were the windows to the soul then Stiles Stilinski should have had a blank soul. Of course, that wasn’t possible, no one could have a blank soul. To have a blank soul would be to not even be a person, not even alive. To be a blank person would be a lot like being dead and Stiles Stilinski, no matter what anyone else said, was not a blank person. 

“What are you looking at Scott?” Allison asked, leaning against the wall and looking towards where Stiles was. Stiles had stopped at his locker to get out books for his next class. 

“Huh? Oh nothing I just spaced out,” Scott said rubbing the back of his head as he smiled at Allison.

“Checking out Stilinski?” Allison asked. 

“No, I wasn’t. I just kinda dozed off staring in that general direction,” Scott said, sheepish. He wasn’t really lying. Stiles did just happen to be in his line of sight and he really had been spacing out when he first noticed Stiles. 

“If you say so,” Allison said, making her way into their classroom. Once she was gone, Scott looked back over at Stiles. He had shut his locker and turned to look at Scott, and he was one hundred percent sure that Stiles had heard the conversation that had just happened, so he smiled at him. No response. Scott had to admit he wasn’t really that surprised. He had never seen Stiles give anyone a response, not even a teacher. 

“What are you looking at McCall?” Stiles asked. Scott blinked looking at Stiles for half a second before quickly ducking into his classroom. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he heard Stiles voice still ringing clearly in his ears. There was something about the way he spoke, and how serious he sounded that made Scott shiver.

“Scott are you okay?” Lydia asked, as she had walked in after him and seen what had happened. 

“Huh? Oh yeah. I’m fine just...you know Creepy Stilinski was talking to me,” he said. Lydia looked out the door to see Stiles still standing there. She shrugged.

“Well if he tries to start a fight with you, Jackson’s dad is the most prominent lawyer in Beacon Hills,” She said before walking past him and heading to her desk. Scott doesn’t spare her another glance because he knew she was right. Jackson’s dad had always been the go-to man, especially with law.

He turned to look back out the door and he saw Stiles was still there, just staring at him. He seemed confused, almost as if he didn’t expect Scott to freak out and run away. But, Scott was Jackson’s best friend. Well, one of his best friends. Jackson had Danny and well Scott had Allison, but they had both been co-captains together for so long that they could have been best friends. But that’s not the point. The point is Scott has spent the last few years of his life mocking Stiles behind his back.

Creepy Stilinski. Spooky Stiles. Those are the names that everyone called the dark brooding man. It made sense, after all, people fear what they don’t know. Yet, Scott couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop staring at Stiles right then. He wanted to go talk to him about something, anything, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t take the few steps to get closer to him. He wouldn’t even call out to say hi or even give him a reply. No one talked to Stiles. No one cared about Stiles. Stiles Stilinski was a freak and a psycho, so people didn’t associate with him, didn’t see him. That was all Scott knew to be true. 

Just as Scott was gathering his thoughts the bell rang and Finstock was yelling at him to sit down and shut the door. Stiles was gone, he had been gone for a while but Scott had yet to notice. So, he just dis as he was told and sank down into his seat behind Allison.

“Don’t think about it and you’ll be fine,” Allison whispered as she leaned back to stretch.

“Sure, that’s easy for you to say, but I just think he might not be all that bad,” Scott said. 

“You could be right, but if you want to go that route then please be careful,” She said before leaning forward and starting to take notes on the lecture. Scott knew she was right. Stiles had really hurt Jackson all those years ago, and he was considered to be a ticking time bomb. So, with that in mind Scott made sure he would proceed with caution. After all, Stiles had been a sweet kid once, maybe he just needed another friend.

“I’ll be careful,” Scott stated, before leaning forward to take notes. 

Class passed slowly, with Scott keeping his eyes on all the clocks. He just wanted to go home and forget about the day he had been having. But, lunch still loomed in the distance and Scott knew he would have to sit with Jackson. By the time he reached fourth period Jackson had already found out about the confrontation between him and Stiles. In fact the whole school had.  
“Good job McCall,” Jackson said, patting Scott on the back. Scott groaned and turned to look at Jackson who had taken the seat behind him.  
“What do you mean by good job? I didn’t do anything,” Scott said, quickly.  
“That’s not what Lydia said,” Jackson started. Of course this was all Lydia’s fault. She was the most disgusting gossip Scott had ever meet but she was smart and pretty loyal so that did balance out her flaws.

“What exactly did Lydia say?” Scott asked, turning back around to get ready for class.

“She told me how you put that piece of shit Stilinski in his place,” Jackson said, in a smug tone.

“First off, I didn’t put anyone in their place. Secondly his name is Stiles. You two use to be friends until his mom died. Can’t you give him a break?” Scott snapped, turning to look at Jackson. 

“Calm down, McCall. The key phrase is used to be. Yeah, we used to be friends, but then he decided he was too good for me,” Jackson explained. “He decided he would rather spend his time with Lahey and that camera boy Matt. He would rather talk about comics and stupid shit than be on the lacrosse team. Me, I moved on to much better and greater things,” Jackson said, right before the bell rang and Harris started to lecture. 

Jackson was right, at least that’s what Scott could remember. Jackson and Stiles had been best friends since childhood. They had grown up together and were destined to conquer the world. Their families worked closely together since Jackson’s dad was a defense attorney and Stiles dad was the sheriff. But, everything seemed to change when Stiles mom got sick. He got cold and distant with everyone, except for Isaac. 

In fact, if Scott really thought about it, he could remember what happened the day Jackson and Stiles got into the fight. It was three days before Stiles mom actually died. Jackson had been trying to get Stiles to talk to him, but Jackson wasn’t always the nicest person. He had said something about Stiles mom being better off dead and he meant it in a she wouldn’t be suffering anymore way, but Stiles took it in a totally different way. 

“McCall,” Harris snapped. Scott’s head shot up. He hadn’t been taking notes or even listening, and now he was stuck having to answer a question he hadn’t even heard. “Now, based off the deer in headlights look I will assume you were not paying attention. Do you know what that means, McCall?”

“Yes Mr. Harris,” Scott said. He was lucky that he didn’t have lacrosse practice this time of year, or Coach would have killed him for getting detention from Harris again. 

“Good,” Harris said before going back to teaching them about moles. 

The rest of the class passed and Scott made his way to lunch with Jackson and Danny. As always they sat like royalty. Jackson sat at the head of the table with Lydia on his left and Danny on his right. Next to Lydia sat Allison and Scott was next to Danny. Of course, there was one empty seat. It was at the other head, but no one ever sat there. It was probably because Jackson refused to admit he had an equal. 

“So Scott,” Allison started. “Since you have detention, should I get a ride home with someone else?” Allison asked.

“Probably,” Scott said. He knew Harris liked to give him the worst job of all; reshelving books. It always took Scott forever to do, so Harris loved to assign him to that. 

“Okay. Lydia-”

“Nope, sorry Allison but Jackson and I have plans,” Lydia said, not even looking up from her compact.

“Danny?”

“Can’t, I’ve got plans as well,” Danny said. Allison sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Well, I’ll just figure something out,” She said with a smile, before starting to eat again. Lunch passed in silence. Well, silence for Scott at least. Lydia and Jackson talked about trivial things that would boost Jackson ego. Danny and Allison discussed something that Scott didn’t care about. And Scott, well Scott just ate and stared through Allison. His eyes were focused on a table of so called outcasts. It consisted of Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Matt Daehler, and of course Stiles Stilinski. He noticed they to were sat like royalty; Stiles at the head, Isaac and Matt as his sides, and then Erica and Body. There was no one at the other head. 

For a moment Stiles looked up, and their eyes meet. It was only a brief second in time, but it happened. Amber orbs meet pools of deep brown. It was short lived but it was… almost nice. After all, Stiles did smile. Or, it looked like a smile to Scott. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was just a smirk or something. Who knew? After all only they had experience it, and only they could explained what had just happened between them.


	2. Two

Stiles didn’t know how to explain his day, when his dad asked. A simple “okay” just didn’t seem to work for this day. The day had been odd, after all Scott McCall and him had shared a moment. Well, he supposed he couldn’t really call it a moment if it was one sided. For Stiles, it had been a slight moment. A moment of joy and happiness, he had even smiled. But for Scott, who knew? 

“It was okay,” Stiles finally said.

“That’s good,” His dad replied as he continued to stuff fries into his mouth, his eyes never really leaving the case file on his desk. 

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Stiles said, munching on his curly fries. He really hadn’t seen his dad in a few days, so he brought him dinner. Everyone else was busy tonight, and in all honesty he should have been doing his homework, but homework could wait. He really needed to spend some time with his dad. After all, they only had each other since his mom died. 

“Did you learn anything?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Nothing worth talking about though,” Stiles replied. His dad looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Is something going on that you’re not telling me, Stiles?” the Sheriff asked. Stiles blinked, his mouth hanging open just a little. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” He asked quickly, trying to cover his tracks.

“You’re acting weird. So, what’s going on” His dad asked. Stiles bit his lip thinking for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to word things. 

“I think I have a crush on a boy.”

“Okay? Is that it? Stiles, I’ve known for a very long time-”

“Dad no it’s not that he’s a boy or anything it’s just who he is” Stiles explained. “It’s...It’s Scott McCall,” 

“I hear from his mother that Scott is a really nice boy. I think it would be a good idea for you to maybe try and talk to him. Get to know him first. I mean I know you and Isaac just started with sex but you see where that went…” His dad trailed off. Stiles sighed. His dad was right; Isaac was currently single as was Stiles, after all their friends with benefits thing hadn’t worked out. There were too many messy emotions tied to each other, so cutting the sex out really saved their friendship. Stiles was about to reply but the door opened quickly and there stood a very frantic looking Jordan Parrish.

“Sir, there’s been a very bad accident. We’re needed,” He said quickly. Stiles looked at his dad, who was already on his feet, grabbing his jacket.

“Whoa, wait, how bad?” Stiles asked.

“Really bad. It was two teenagers in a car versus an eighteen wheeler,” Parrish explained before walking out with the Sheriff.

“Where?” Stiles asked, jumping up and following after them.

“Fourth and Main,” 

“Dad-”

“No, Stiles. I want you to wait here,” His dad said, firmly.

“But-”

“Stiles, I do not have time for buts! You are not coming. Now, go back to my office and wait. I’ll be back when I’m done,” He said before walking out the door with Parrish. The entire office was in a state of chaos. Different officers were moving to get to their cars and others were frantically answering the ringing phones. Stiles sighed before taking a step back towards his dad’s office. It was then that something hit him. Parrish had said that there were more than likely casualties. Teenage casualties. 

“Shit,” Stiles snapped before rushing to his jeep. He headed to Fourth and Main, well as close as he could get. The police stopped his at first and main, so e walked the rest of the way. Stiles soon found the crowd of people trying to get a glimpse of the death and destruction. Everyone moved easily out of his way, as he pushed forward, to reach the yellow tape that stopped him from going any further. 

“Oh god,” Stiles muttered running his hands through his hair. He recognized that car. That was Matt’s car. Stiles frantically looked for someone, anyone, who could tell him what was going on.

“Parrish!” Stiles yelled, getting the deputies attention. Parrish paused what he was doing and made his way over to Stiles.

“Stiles, your dad said-”

“I don’t care. Is that...is that Matt’s car?” He asked. Parrish turned back over his shoulder to look at the two black bags that were on the ground next to the car.

“Were not sure. The carnage was pretty bad and-”

“I don’t care. Is that Matt’s car. Does it have a sticker on the back that says “I shoot people for a living” with a camera next to it?” He asked quickly. Parrish didn’t respond, he just looked down. The silence was all that Stiles needed.

“No.” Stiles said quickly. “That’s not Matts car. You’re fucking lying!” He yelled. Stiles could feel his chest growing tighter, and tighter. He felt dizzy, as he looked between the bags and Parrish, who was trying to calm him down. It didn’t matter though, Stiles was having a full blown panic attack. 

“Sheriff!” Parrish yelled as he lifted the yellow tape and pulled Stiles under it. The two stumbled towards his dad, but Stiles lost his balance, and slipped from Parrish’s grasp. He ended up face down on the sidewalk fighting to catch a breath, and keep his eyes open. There wasn’t enough oxygen getting to his brain. 

“Stiles,” His dad said, kneeling next to him.

“Sir, you have to move back,” someone said. Stiles couldn’t distinguish who it was. All the shapes were blurring together in a mess of light and darkness. He felt like the world was spinning, and just as he felt like he would fall off, everything went dark. 

It was the worst panic attack of his life. Now, he was laying in some hospital bed. The sick scent of disinfectant filled his senses making him feel even worse. The last time Stiles had been in a hospital was when his mom died. He could still remember asking the nurse on duty where his dad was. She kept saying that he would be there, but he came too late.

Stiles told himself that he would never forgive his dad for that, but he had. He had forgiven him the day that he almost lost his job as sheriff. It was weird to think, but Scott’s dad had been the reason that he got to keep his job. He covered up for his drinking and even helped him get back on his feet. That was obviously before he skipped town leaving Scott and his mom alone. 

Stiles sighed and sat up. This was getting depressing, but what did he expect. He was a kid with manic depressive episodes, panic attacks, and to top it all off he also had ADD. So, being stuck here in a hospital bed was maddening.

“Hey nurse,” he called as someone passed by the door. The woman poked her head in and smiled. It took him a moment to recognize Scott’s mom where she stood, looking back at Stiles with a smile only a mother could give.

“I’ll go tell your dad that you up. Hopefully we can get you checked out of here soon,” She said before leaving. Stiles sighed, that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to know what happened. How long had he been out? Was Matt really dead? Who was next to him?

“I know that look,” His dad said once he entered. “We go ahead and ask because I know you won’t be okay until I answer you,” He said, sitting down next to him. 

“How long have I been out? What happened to the car crash? Was it Matt? Who was he with? If it’s not Matt then who was it?” He asked.

“Well you’ve only been out for an hour or two. I’ve been working the case and it looks like the eighteen wheeler ran the red light and hit the car. The car was Matt’s and a girl by the name of Allison was with him,” The sheriff said. 

“Wait, Allison? Like Allison Argent? The girl Matt had the biggest crush on? That Allison?”

“Yes, Allison Argent,”

“And they both died?”

“Died on impact,” His dad said. “At least there was very little suffering,”

“Funny. You know they said that about mom, but I know she suffered,” Stiles hissed, bitterly. Okay, maybe now wasn’t the best time to pick a fight with his dad. Maybe he was just overreacting. Or not. Maybe Stiles was reacting like any decent human should after finding out one of their best friends had died in a car crash. 

“Stiles, you know this isn’t the same thing. Your mom...she was sick. She was very sick, she did suffer a great deal. I don’t know who told you that, but they were wrong,” The Sheriff said, taking Stiles hand.

“I don’t remember who told me. I think it was her main nurse”

“Melissa? I mean Mrs. McCall?”

“Yeah...Scott’s mom…” Stiles said slowly. He had done his best to not remember that day at all. All he needed to remember about it was sitting in that waiting room after they had declared her dead, waiting for his dad to show up and drive him home. He just needed to remember the feeling of anger and rage that had swelled up inside of him. He needed to focus that on anyone but himself and his dad, because he had done that enough. 

“Stiles. I know this is very quick but, I’m sending you back into that support group because of this. I think it will be good for you to talk about losing Matt,” The sheriff said quickly.

“What? No I hate that. I really fucking hate Peter Hale. Oh I mean I dislike Dr. Hale,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes as he lay back down. He pulled his hand away from his dad.

“I can’t believe you would betray me like this,” He said. 

“Stiles, I did this for your own good. Look Melissa said that she was going to send Scott since him and Allison use to date.”

“I don’t care what she does to her son, I’m your son. You’re suppose to make responsible decisions that affect my state of well being not one’s that destroy me,” He snapped.

“Stiles.” His dad said firmly. “You are going to this support group and you will like it,” He said. “Secondly, I don’t need you telling me how to be a parent. I have done nothing to you but try my hardest. Yeah we don’t sit down and have home cooked meals like most, but I am trying. And you, acting like a spoiled little brat isn’t helping. Got it?” His dad said firmly. Stiles bit his lip and looked away from his dad not replying. His dad wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t Isaac’s dad who obviously beat him. Too bad no one could prove anything, because Stiles would love to see him prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. 

“John, the papers are ready,” Melissa said, as she poked her head into the room. The sheriff gave Stiles a looked before leaving to fill out the papers. Stiles sighed and got up out of the bed. He put back on his shoes and changed out of his crappy hospital gown before sitting back down and waiting for his dad to return. It only took about thirty minutes for his dad to return and for them to be on their way out of the hospital.


	3. Three

Scott knew that this was going to be a good thing. Going to a support group would be good for him, or so he thought. He drug his feet a little as he neared the room, his heart pounding a little in his chest as he drew closer and closer. 

The room was a pretty good size with about twenty chairs placed in a circle. Scott looked around to see most of the other teens sitting and texting, or just playing with their phones. No one made eye contact with anyone else, and no one said anything, so Scott just picked a seat that wasn’t next to anyone and took out his phone. 

Stiles, on the other hand, found himself walking into the room without any hesitation, until he saw Scott. The two had seen each other at the funerals but neither had spoken to the other. He really shouldn’t have been so surprised his dad said that Scott was supposed to be there, but he was still surprised. 

Unlike Scott, Stiles got there when there weren’t very many seats available. Of course, there was a seat next to Scott but then again there was also one across from him. Stiles picked the second option and sat down, leaning back with a sigh. He didn’t even bother getting on his phone. He knew that Dr. Hale would be in any second and they would have to begin. 

“Good afternoon,” Dr. Hale stated as he walked in and closed the door to the room behind him. Stiles sat up and watched as everyone put up their phones, and focused on Peter Hale. The Hale family was a prominent family of doctors, surgeons, psychologists, and counselors. Peter was head of the outreach program for the youth of Beacon Hills. Whenever he wasn’t working at Eichen House, he was working with children. 

A few people muttered a hello or something, but Peter didn’t really notice. He took his seat and started to call role. After all this was a special class and you had to pay and sign up. Each and everyone said here or present and then elapsed back into silence, as Peter passed around papers and pencils. Stiles took one look at it and quickly started to fill it out. It was a mood evaluation form. There were ten different smiley faces with different mood expressions. Stiles easily circles five because he wasn’t in a mood worse than that. 

“Okay, so everyone please circle your mood number and then we will go around and tell our numbers. Be as honest as possible. If you think you really feel like a ten then do that, same goes for a one” Peter explained, smoothly. 

Once everyone seemed to finish circling their mood Peter looked around the circle and locked eyes with Stiles. Stiles could feel that rage and anger starting to bubble to the surface. Peter, as Stiles called him, had been the grief counselor that him and his dad had visited when his mom passed away. Stiles had been young but he wasn’t stupid by any means, he knew when Peter was talking down to him. Too bad Peter never did it in front of his dad or Peter would be dead. But then again, Stiles dad had been drinking a lot during that time, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to notice what was happening.

“Okay, since Mr. Stilinski has been to one of my groups before, I believe that he will be more than happy to share, and demonstrate how to share,” Peter said, firmly. 

“Actually, I believe that you’re a fucking asshole who is just picking on me,” Stiles retorted. He looked down at his paper which he had already crumpled into a ball, unfolded, flattened, and started to ball up again. 

“Mr. Stilinski I don’t think we are to that part of the page. What is your mood level,” Peter asked.

“It was a five but because you’re such a fucking asshole it’s a seven. Happy, doc?” He snapped. The entire room was silent, except for Peter who was explaining the process some more and starting to ask everyone how they felt.

“Mr. McCall?”

“I uh...I guess I’m at like a seven?” Scott said, with a soft shrug. Stiles bit his lip as he watched Scott’s body language. He was clearly uncomfortable, because of the way he puffed out his cheeks to exhale, and the way his fingers fiddled with his neck. Stiles knew that Scott was doing that because each human has nerves in their neck that when stroked calm a person down.

Stiles watched Scott stroke his neck and thought about how nice it might be to do that for him. Maybe even playing with his hair. After all, Stiles liked when people played with his hair, it calmed him down and made him feel warm and safe. 

“Now, Mr. Stilinski will you tell us about your stage of grief?” Peter asked. Stiles hadn’t even noticed they got around the circle and were back to him.

“I guess I’m still in the transition between denial and anger. There are times I feel angry about the situation, and times I blame others for what happened, but I also don’t think it happened,” Stiles said, before even realizing he had. He didn’t want to get this way around Peter. He hated feeling vulnerable in front of him, and now Scott. Scott was suppose to think he had this great life even with his mom being dead, his dad working long hours, and the rest of the world turning against him. Or, Scott was suppose to think that Stiles didn’t have emotions, because if Stiles didn’t have emotions then the way that Jackson and everyone treated him wouldn’t get a response. No response, no more torture right? Wrong. In high school, if you don’t show emotion they just keep coming back for more. They keep torturing you until one day you snap, until one day you smash someone’s face into a locker.

“Now, Mr. Stilinski you’re aware that grief does come in stages, but they are very liquid like. You can flow from one stage to another and then back until such a time as you reach the final stage. Even then you can move back through the emotions when there is a strong trigger,” Peter explained in that almost condescending tone that Stiles hated. It was the tone that made his blood boil because Peter had no right to talk down to him. Peter had no right to treat him like shit just because his mom was dead and now Matt. Peter couldn’t possibly understand what was going on in his life, he just couldn’t. So, why should he be allowed to talk to him like this? He shouldn’t. 

“Yeah and do you want to know what my trigger is?”

“Mr. Stilinski, I am not a trigger. I’m simply here to try and help you get through your emotions, in a safe manner,” Peter explained. Stiles shook his head and crossed his arms. He was back to his “shutdown mode,” the one where he wouldn’t let anyone in. The one that he used to make his feelings, hide that inside he was just human like everyone else. Peter could tell that there was no point trying, so he continued to the next person. 

Group finished with Stiles catching bit’s and pieces of everyone's grief sections. Scott was in the anger phase but also he seemed to dip into the bargaining phase. He really seemed to be putting a lot of blame on himself for the accident that had killed Matt and Allison. Apparently, if Scott had just paid attention in class, Allison would still be alive. Honestly it could have been the truth. There were always time that Stiles would think about if he had done this better then his mom wouldn’t have gotten sick, or wouldn’t have died, but not so much anymore. Now he understood that he couldn’t have stopped his mother from dying, it just wasn’t meant to be. With Allison, who knew, maybe her fate could have been change if Scott had paid attention in class.

“Hey,” Scott said, walking up to Stiles as everyone was rushing to leave the room. 

“Hey,” Stiles replied, not sure what to actually do. The two just looked at each other for a moment before Scott spoke again.

“You uh...you’ve been through this before right? I mean with your mom you know….” Scott trailed off there really didn’t seem to be a good way to talk about this.

“Yeah, and?” Stiles asked.

“Do you think we could like get coffee or food after these meetings and talk? I mean I guess I could talk to Jackson and Lydia but they seem to be moving on just fine, in their own way that is,” Scott said. Just last night most of Jackson’s friends had gone to his house and gotten wasted, Scott included. 

“I guess. Did you want to start today?” Stiles asked, finally standing up to make his way to the exit.

“No, I guess not. I mean, unless you have time and are willing,” Scott replied, trying his best not to sound anxious about the entire situation. 

“I can’t today. I told Isaac I’d go with him to visit Matt’s grave, so maybe next time?” Stiles suggested. 

“Sure, next time it is then,” Scott said with a half-grin. Stiles nodded and made his way out, glad to be out of the awkward situation.


	4. Four

Group wasn’t as boring the next week, because today Peter had paired everyone up with a grief partner. Luckily, or unluckily, for Stiles, Scott and him were partners. It wasn’t that Stiles didn’t like Scott; it was that he didn’t trust him. Scott was friends with Jackson and Jackson had proven that he could be an asshole, so he couldn’t get close to Scott. He shouldn’t get close to Scott.

“Hey, so you said you wanted to get together sometime after group, right?” Scott asked, sitting in the now empty chair next to Stiles. The rest of the group seemed to be more than happy to bolt out of the room, while Stiles was still sitting there contemplating his fate.

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles muttered, really not listening to Scott. 

“Well I need to go eat before I head to work you can come with me. We can go anywhere, I’m not that picky,” Scott explained, looking at Stiles who didn’t seem to hear a word he had said.

“Stiles?” Scott asked, shaking the boys shoulder a little. This instantly got Stiles attention as he jumped up from the chair.

“Shit, sorry,” Stiles said, regaining his calm mind as he looked at Scott. He seemed hurt by his reaction.

“Does that always happen?” Scott asked.

“Only when he isn’t paying attention,” Peter chimed in, walking over to the two, seeing as Scott and Stiles were the only people left in the room. 

“Oh,” Scott said, shrugging a little as he got up. “I guess I’ll just have to find another way to get your attention,” He said with a soft smile. Stiles cursed a little about how that smile looked like sunshine, but he didn’t say it out loud. No, he just thought about how the only reason rainbows existed were because of Scott McCall.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, after scolding himself for even thinking about Scott’s smile in such a way. “Food right, Scotty?” Stiles asked. The last word just rolled right off his tongue. He honestly hadn’t called Scott that since they were little, since before his mom got sick and he got labeled the freak of Beacon Hills. If Scott had been a dog his ears would have perked up and his tail would have started to wag. 

“Sounds great,” Scott said grabbing Stiles hand and starting to lead him out of the room. Once they were out of earshot of Mr. Hale, Scott let go of Stiles hand and turned to him, “Sorry about that, he just really gives me the creeps and I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could.” He explained.

“Oh that’s fine. I understand,” Stiles said, stuffing his hands into the black Batman hoodie he was wearing.

“So, where do you want to eat?” Scott asked. Stiles shrugged; he really wasn’t hungry. After all, he had eaten before he went to group, but he wasn’t going to tell Scott that. Scott seemed determined to eat with him.

“Well if you don’t have a preference we could go to Jack In The Box.” Scott suggested. He seemed to have some remembrance of Stiles really liking that place. It was a vague memory but it seemed to be very firm in his mind. He knew it wasn’t Jackson or Lydia who liked that place, both of them thought they were above fast food, and he didn’t really care either way, so it had to be Stiles. 

“Okay. The one on main?” Stiles asked pulling out his car keys. 

“Is there even another Jack In The Box?” 

“Fair point,” Stiles commented, a small smile growing on his face as he headed to his jeep. Scott went the other direction and got on his dirt bike. It had never occurred to Stiles just how different the two were. If you took a look at their modes of transportation, Stiles drove a jeep. Granted it had been because his dad had gotten it for a steal because it was auctioned off from the police station. But, it was durable, and able to go just about anywhere. Okay, maybe it didn’t go in the ocean but neither did a dirt bike. But, that being said, dirt bikes are for single riders unless you have two helmets. Which Stiles assumed Scott did because he used to take Allison home like that. But, none the less, it was for teenage guys who wanted to just go fast and hard, and Scott McCall was one of those guys. He was very much the sweet loveable jock that everyone would use to get close to Jackson. That’s what Lydia did, at least.

Stiles pulled into the parking lot right behind Scott. For a moment he just sat there wondering what they were going to talk about. Was there even anything for them to talk about? Stiles had no idea, but he wasn’t about to let that get in his way. Hey, if push came to shove, he’d just leave. But, he was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen, Scott was like a giant teddy bear, always had been. Even though Jackson and Isaac didn’t get along Scott always said hi to him in the hall. Well, Scott had never really done that to Stiles, but that was a different situation. Jackson had conditioned the entire school to not notice him, treat him like he was a ghost, so it made sense that Scott wouldn’t notice him.

A knock on the window drew Stiles out of his day dream. It was Scott, and he waved. Stiles felt that familiar fear that settled in his stomach every time he walked by Jackson or his friends. The feeling that this was just a trick. The feeling that in the end he was going to end up hurt, but he went anyways. 

“I thought you were just going to sit in there forever,” Scott commented, as Stiles shoved his hands back in his pockets. He shrugged but didn’t comment. There wasn’t much to say back to that other than no.

The two walked in and Scott ordered food. Stiles didn’t and there was a small dispute over that where Stiles had to explain that he had already eaten. Of course, Scott felt like an idiot and the top of his ears turned red from his frustration. Stiles almost laughed because Scott wasn’t one to get like that unless Allison did something. Even then, she had stopped doing that after they broke up.

“You know, if you had eaten you could have told me,” Scott said, unwrapping his bacon ultimate cheeseburger. 

“Were grief buddies, besides I blew you off last week couldn’t do it again just because I had eaten,” Stiles said, lounging back in his chair. As always, he was trying to see just how well he could balance himself on just two legs.

“If you do that you’re going to fall. Remember in second grade when you, me, and Jackson came here with your dad? You did that and fell busting your head open? Man, my mom said you cried and cried while they gave you the stitches, but when she was done you were a big boy and thanked her,” Scott explained. Stiles paused, letting all four feet hit the floor as he listened to Scott. He was right, that had happened, but he didn’t think Scott remembered it.

“Right,” Stiles finally said, as he watched Scott stuff his face. This time he didn’t lean back in his chair he just pulled out his phone to see if anything was going on. Of course nothing was, Isaac was with his dad, Boyd and Erica were on a date, and Matt… Stiles didn’t want to think about Matt.

They sat in silence as Scott ate. Neither of them really knowing what to say or do in this situation. Scott hadn’t really expected it to be this hard. Maybe it was because he knew the innocent Stiles, but still couldn’t get the angry seventh grade Stiles out of his mind. 

“Well, Scotty this had been fun but if we’re just going to sit here in silence, then I need to go,” Stiles said moving to stand up.

“Wait, don’t go. Do you still read comics?” Scott asked, quickly.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything, Scott. I know you don’t so trying to hold a conversation with you about comics just isn’t going to work, okay? Besides, I know you’re just trying to ‘take pity’ on me or some shit, but you don’t have to. I’m fine. I have other friends and I don’t need your pity party,” Stiles said quickly, as he managed to get to his feet.

“No, that’s not what I’m doing. I mean, yeah maybe it is, but I just-” Scott stopped. He didn’t know what he was doing. “Stiles I have no idea what I’m doing, what I’m feeling, or anything, okay? I thought, you know, I was doing okay but then I watched Jackson and Lydia drink and make out and pretend that life just goes on without Allison? And I watch you and I see you being normal, and I don’t understand it. How does anyone act normal after their best friend just died? What do you do if you can’t talk to them about being sad? Do you just move on and find someone else to talk to? Do you bottle it up and just wait until you finally explode? What do you do Stiles?” Scott practically yelled the past part. Every head in the place was turned to look at them.

“Get up,” Stiles said quickly, grabbing Scott by his arm and yanking him out the door. Scott put up a lot less resistance than Stiles imagined he would. So, getting him to stand with his back against the jeep was easy.

“Look, Scott. It’s hard, I know, but you just have to move on. There is no point dwelling on it. If you think about it too much you’re going to end up like me. Do you want to be the black sheep of the school? Because I don’t think you do. So, just suck it up and get over it. Look, I know that’s not an answer, but at school you can’t be vulnerable. High school is like a wolf pack; everyone is an apex predator. Some are at the top, you know, like you and Jackson. You guys are alphas and I’m just an omega, the scapegoat of the entire pack. So you can act like a crying mess whenever you’re in private but in public, be a man.” Stiles said firmly, his hands resting on Scott’s shoulder. He had somehow managed to lock eyes with him, seeing every bit of hurt that he felt. It was almost sickening. Stiles knew how to handle his own pain, but other’s… that was a different story.

“Thanks,” Scott muttered, looking away from Stiles. That wasn’t what he was looking for, but it was an answer.

“Look, were grief buddies right? Here put your number in my phone and if you need me, call. If you can’t call me, then just text me. I don’t do much so I will always reply,” Stiles said, handing Scott his phone. Scott looked at it for a moment but took it and started to type in his number. Once he was done Stiles took his phone back and texted Scott.

“Now we have each others numbers, okay?” Stiles asked.

“Okay,” Scott said looking at his phone and then slipping it back into his pocket, “I have to go. I’ll see you at school?”

“Sure.”


	5. Five

A storm had rolled in, making Friday a very long and very cold day. Of course, it was warm inside, but no one really counted that. It had been four days since the Jack In The Box encounter. In all honesty, no words had been exchanged since then. Even at group, Scott and Stiles avoided each other like the plague.

Thunder crashed in the background as Scott’s body tossed and turned in his bed. His mind was wracked with images of Allison’s body. He could see her dead, empty eyes staring at him like he was all she could focus on; as he moved he found that her eyes followed her everywhere.

“Scott, why didn’t you save me?” She asked, her body lifting up off the ground. She lurched towards him, grabbing his arms. Her lifeless eyes searching his for an answer that Scott couldn’t give her. “You didn’t save me. It was your job, Scott, it was your job to take me home,” She whispered, before her body vanished into thin air. 

“Allison!” Scott cried looking around, as darkness encroached on him. The familiar feeling of being locked in a tight space came upon him all at once, and he let out an earth shaking scream. It was the type that always woke the body from the deepest of REM. 

For a moment he just sat there, trying to catch his breath. The loud crashing of thunder made him jump, and the familiar feeling of being alone settled in. He hadn’t really ever felt like this until after Allison left him. Even while she was alive he felt alone. It was as if no one was really there for him. Jackson had Lydia and Danny, and Allison always had Lydia, but Scott, Scott only had Allison. It was hard from him to think about it that way, but it was true. Now that Allison was gone, he had no one. 

His hands clenched around his sheets as he lay back down. For a moment he lay there, body perfectly still, just trying to hold the tears back. That’s when he remembered he had Stiles phone number. He searched for his phone, and with shaky hands he typed out a text.

[Scott] Hey. Are you awake?

And now he waited. He waited for what seemed like an hour, but it was only about five minutes.

[Stiles] Yeah. Y?

[Scott] I can’t sleep. 

[Stiles] Sucks doesn’t it?

[Scott] Yeah it does.  
[Scott] Did I wake you?

[Stiles] Nah. I was up. Can’t sleep when it’s storming out there.

[Scott] Don’t like the thunder?

[Stiles] Astraphobia

Scott paused as he read the word. He had no idea what it meant so he figured it was best to just look it up. 

[Scott] Fear of thunder and lightning? 

[Stiles] Yep

[Scott] Sounds sucky.

[Stiles] I guess. So y u still up?

[Scott] Nightmare.

[Stiles] About Allison?

[Scott] Yeah.

[Stiles] Need me there?

Scott stopped. He had no idea how to reply to that. He wanted the companionship, but did he want it to be Stiles? Yeah, he knew about the whole Jackson incident, and he was a little worried about that, but it was five years ago, Stiles couldn’t still be that bad. He hadn’t done anything like that since that day.

[Stiles] No?  
[Stiles] Yes?  
[Stiles] I’m not going to bash your face into a locker. Scouts honor. Well I was never a scout but I still promise I won’t bash your face into a locker. Unless you want me to. If you want me to then I guess I can, but the fact that you have a locker in your house is weird, so I would probably be too confused to actually do it.   
[Stiles] See Scotty I’m just going to sit here and keep typing up shit until you reply.

[Scott] Yes.  
[Scott] Come over.   
[Scott] I’m tired of being alone.


	6. Six

Stiles always drove fast, but it was raining. Actually, it was drizzling, just enough that he had to use his windshield wipers on the slowest setting. The storm had started to move off, and the thunder had started to turn into a dull roar. 

Scott said he was tired of being alone. Like the type of alone where you realized that you had no one else in the world. That type of alone just was uncalled for. See, this is why Stiles hated popular people. He hated people who had good looks, amazing charm, great grade, and the world at their fingertips. He hated them because they surrounded themselves with friends who were of the same quality, but there was always one who was like a charity case. Grant it, Scott was no charity case, he was going to go great places, do great things, but he was the charity case in his group.

“Damn it,” Stiles snapped, slamming on his brakes to stop at the red light that was the street before the entrance to Scott’s neighborhood, “Come on I have somewhere to be,” he explained to the light. It wasn’t like the light could really hear him but he was still going to try and reason with the inanimate object. 

After about three minutes the light finally turned green and Stiles’ jeep roared to life. He reached Scott’s house two minutes later and was banging on the door in three.

“Hey Scotty,” Stiles said, as the door was opened. He didn’t wait for Scott to let him in he just walked in. Scott didn’t say anything he just watched as Stiles let himself in. Not much had changed in the McCall house since Stiles was a child. They still had the same couch, and same lay out. Okay some of the photos were different, because Scott had grown up, but that was expected.

“Thanks for, you know, um...coming over,” Scott said, rubbing the back of his neck. Stiles noticed and was taken back to the first day they had ever been in group together. The want to reach out and touch his neck for him, or to play with his hair while Scott laid his head in his lap washed over him.

“Yeah, you know, it’s no problem. I mean were grief buddies and I can’t let you go without the awesome council that I could give,” He said. Scott nodded, and the two relapsed into silence.

“How uh-” Pause. “How is your dad?” Scott asked.

“Good, he’s, you know, sheriff and stuff. I mean that’s great and all but he’s, not home a lot.” Pause. “Your mom?”

“Oh she’s great. She’s always great. Work’s long hours and stuff, but she’s good. She’s really living out that nurse dream, you know?” Scott said, his words hanging in the air with Stiles’. The conversation was awkward, and there was no getting around that. 

“Do you want to sit down or-”

“Stand. I’ll stand, but thank- thank you for the offer,” Stiles said, tripping over his words a little. Why was he so nervous about this whole thing. Was it because he thought that Scott didn’t deserve to be in so much pain, or was it because he just really wanted to hold Scott and tell him it was okay? Stiles had no idea. He just knew that he needed to he here for Scott. Scott was delicate in his grief, still fragile, yet he shone like the sun. 

“You didn’t have to offer to come. It was nice, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here,” Scott said, making his way to the couch. Sitting seemed to be exhausting, just liked breathing, and talking, and being alive. Everything was physically and mentally exhausting to Scott at the moment because he could still feel Allison’s dead eyes on him. He could still hear her voice asking why. He was scared and angry, but mainly he was upset. He wanted to cry, to show that weakness that men saw as poison. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die, or trade places with Allison. At least if she was alive she’d have someone to help he through it all, someone who wasn’t creepy Stilinski. 

“I wanted to come, but if you don’t want me here after all, I can leave,” Stiles said, sitting next to him. For a moment he didn’t even try and touch Scott, he just sat there looking at him watching as he didn’t say anything, or do anything. 

“No, I want you here. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be here,” Scott explained, looking at Stiles. His eyes told the entire story. They told Stiles that Scott was a mess. Stiles shook his head taking Scott’s hand in his.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be here,” Stiles explained, making sure to make eye contact with Scott. Even if it was hard to see him broken, eye contact establishes some symbolism of trust.

“Thanks,” Scott said, leaning back into the couch. He could feel his body slowly starting to relax. He was starting to come back into reality. The feeling of Allison’s eyes on him was slowly fading because of Stiles touch. As long as he felt the cold hand in his then he felt connected to reality. 

“No problem,” Stiles said, his eyes glancing around the room. He remembered, when they were little, they use to play his GameCube, but it looks like Scott had upgraded to and Xbox. It also looks like Scott owned Call Of Duty. Of course he did. “You wanna play some C.O.D?” Stiles asked, gesturing to Scott’s Xbox. Scott raised an eyebrow but ultimately ended up agreeing to a match. By the end of the game Stiles had killed Scott, and the PC’s, at least sixty times. He was crowned match champion, and the two retired to Scott’s bedroom. After all, it was four in the morning and Scott was not about to let Stiles drive. Scott had a bed big enough for two people to lay side by side without touching, which was what they ended up doing.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Stiles said, slipping out of his shoes. Scott shrugged, and slipped into his bed. Stiles took the cue to get in next to him but Scott stopped him.

“Dude, you don’t have to wear your pants. It’s fine. I’ve spent the night with Jackson, he only wears the tightest boxer briefs available, I think your Captain America boxers will be just fine,” Scott said. 

“Well damn, you ruined my surprise Scotty,” Stiles joked, stumbling out of his pants and into bed next to Scott. Honestly, tonight he was wearing his Batman boxers but that didn’t matter, what mattered was that Scott had rolled over to face him. Even in the pale glow of the moonlight he could make out the semi pained and worried expression on Scott’s face. 

“Do you think that this dream will be better?” Scott whispered. Stiles never understood what it was about laying in bed with someone, in the dark, that made you want to whisper to them. Maybe it was because a bed, in the dark, was suppose to be an intimate setting. 

“You know, Scotty, I honestly don’t know. Some nights I sleep and all I have is nightmares. It’s just, something your body does. But, if it get’s really bad then I’ll wake you up, I promise,” He said, taking Scott’s hand in his. Scott, glanced down at Stiles hand and smiled. 

“Thanks, dude.”

“No problem,” Stiles said, starting to turn away from Scott, but he couldn’t Scott still had a hold of his hand.

“What if-”

“No, Scott. No what-if’s. You don’t get to lay here and do that to yourself. I get it, you're scared and shit, but worrying about it won’t help. Worrying only makes everything worse. It just makes your problems ten times bigger than you think they are, and before you know it the weight of the world has come crashing down on you and you are stuck below the debris. So don’t. Don’t lie there and think about the what-if’s that make your heart pound with fear, think about the what-if’s that make your heart jump with excitement,” Stiles explained to Scott. Scott let out a sigh and rolled on to his back, and for a moment he didn’t reply, he was just quiet, but then Stiles noticed the light shaking. Scott was crying. Scott McCall was laying in bed, holding hands with Stiles and crying.

“Whoa, dude, don’t cry,” Stiles said, sitting up and moving closer to Scott. He didn’t hesitate to reach out and wipe away his tears. Scott squeezed the hand he had taken captive as he tried to mutter a few words, but no sound escaped his mouth. He just lay there mouthing something Stiles couldn’t see or understand.

“Scott, it’s okay, don’t cry. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine, I’m right here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?” Stiles explained haphazardly. The words came out in a linear fashion, but it was still a mess. His mind was working overtime and before he could stop himself, he had leaned down and kissed Scott McCall on the lips. He had seen it before, in movies and T.V. show’s if you kiss the crying girl, she stops crying. 

Scott didn’t think about the kiss as Stiles kissing him, he thought about the kiss as a kiss, so he threw his arms around Stiles and pulled him closer. Emotions were high, and there was enough stupid in the two of them to roll with it. There were moments where Stiles was on top, and others where Scott was on top. By the time, they stopped Stiles had a boner and Scott’s lip was bleeding. 

“Shit, Stiles,” Scott muttered, touching his finger to his lip. He knew Stiles had a hard bite, but he didn’t expect it to be hard enough to bust his lip. 

“Sorry,” Stiles said, gripping the sheets in desperation. He either needed to get up and go touch himself or wait for his cock to explode. Both seemed like plausible options, until he noticed that Scott also had a boner. 

“Hey, Scotty,” Stiles said, gesturing to Scott’s boner. Even in the dark he could see the way Scott’s face became red. It always started right over his cheekbones and ended at the tips of his ears.

“Sorry dude, I got carried away,” Scott said, moving to stand, but Stiles caught his arm quickly.

“It’s your room I can go in the bathroom and just you know,” He made a little jerking off motion before shrugging. 

“No dude you're the guest you, you jerk off here and-”

“Do you know how weird that sounds?” Stiles asked, standing.

“No, sit back down,” Scott said crossing to block Stiles path. Stiles raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, he just stood there, looking at Scott. Scott watching him, his tongue darting out to caress the wound on his bottom lip. Stiles noticed, and couldn’t help but mirror his action. He could feel his boner throbbing. It was bad, and if he didn’t do something soon he was pretty sure his dick would fall off.

“Make me,” Stiles finally said. 

“Make you what?”

“Make me sit down, Scott. Come on, you're a lacrosse star, you should be able to make me sit on your bed,” Stiles said, watching as Scott stepped closer. Of course, just as Stiles had hoped, Scott pushed him down onto the bed and went straight for his lips. This time, Scott had Stiles pinned down, to make sure he couldn’t get on top. Scott was going to drive this boat if it killed him, and Stiles had no need to protest, he loved it. He loved the way Scott pressed down on him with all his might, and tried to keep him locked in place. He loved the way their hips synced up so their dicks rubbed at each other through the thin layers of clothe. Honestly, it should have surprised Stiles when Scott reached down and grabbed at Stiles, but it didn’t. He cried out happily, loving the way his hand moved up and down his shaft through the fabric. It was rough and painful but in the best kind of way. The kind of way that reminded Stiles that this was basically real straight boy porn, if you could call another man who was jacking you off straight.

“Shit, Scott,” Stiles gasped, finally reaching under Scott’s boxers to grab his cock. That’s when it happened, the slightest touch of Stiles cold hand sent Scott over the edge. His warm cum squirted out all over Stiles fingers, coating them in a layer of warmth.

“Holy fuck!” Scott cried as Stiles mirrored his actions. The two didn’t stop, even after they had came, they just wanted to keep laying there, kissing each other. The cum didn’t even matter, it was everywhere by the time they were done. It was in Scott’s hair, and Stiles hair, on their clothes, and all over the bed. 

“Geeze,” Scott muttered, laying on the bed panting. Some time during the kiss they had removed their shirts and now lay shirtless, Scott’s arms wrapped around Stiles torso. 

“I think you mean wow,” Stiles said with a satisfied smile, his eyes starting to drift close. 

“Yeah, I mean wow. Good night Stiles,”

“Good night Scott.”


	7. Seven

Saturday was supposed to be the big day. Lydia was turning eighteen. She was the oldest of the group, at least as far as Scott knew. So, here he sat contemplating if he was going to go or not. Lydia was known for having the best parties in town. Everyone would be there, at least everyone that mattered. 

“So, is it a yes or a no?” Lydia asked. Scott blinked as he looked up from the pink piece of paper she had pressed into his hands.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there. It should help me take my mind off of Allison. Doctor Hale said I should, you know, do normal things,” Scott explained, folding up the paper and putting it in his back pocket. 

“Well, I’m not sure who Dr.Hale is, but I don’t want any talk of Allison at my party. She’s been dead for two months now, and you can afford to move on. Besides the two of you weren’t even together. So, come to the party, have fun, and forget,” Lydia said before taking his hand in hers. “Besides, Allison wouldn’t want to see you like this. She always loved that incredibly dorky smile you have Scott,” Lydia said before pulling away from him. 

“Right,” He said licking his lips as Lydia walked away to hand out another invitation to some girl. He sighed, knowing the party was going to be fun. After all, what teenager didn’t like a party with no parents at a lake house full of alcohol? Scott couldn’t really think of anyone who didn’t like that, besides Allison. Allison loved to go to Lydia’s parties but she never drank. In fact, she always made sure that he didn’t drink too much either, but that was before they broke up. 

“Another Lydia party I’m not invited to, huh Scotty,” Stiles said, slipping up next to him. Ever since the rainy night three weeks ago, the two had grown a little closer. They were texting regularly and they were even talking at school. It was nice for Stiles to be able to see Scott starting to move toward a more normal state of mind. Granted, the nightmares still happened but he had only had one last week, so it was progress.

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you came. I mean she doesn’t look at your invitation at the door. Besides everyone is practically invited and you’re a part of everybody so yeah, you should come,” Scott said with a happy smile. Stiles raised an eyebrow, and for a moment he wanted to say no. He wanted to turn tail and run from that kind smile that was inviting him to a party.

“I-” Stiles paused, weighing the options before finally admitting, “It’s just not my scene Scotty, sorry,” He said, fiddling with the zipper on his hoodie. His eyes glanced across Scott’s face, and he didn’t really see any hurt, but that was to be expected. Scott and Stiles were not friends. Scott and Stiles were just trying to grin and bear it until they both felt normal again. Then, when this was all over, they would be able to return to their separate lives, far away from one another. At least that what Stiles figured was going on. After all, Scott McCall could not, and would not ever want to be friends with creepy Stilinski.

“That’s fine. I understand. Well you have fun on Saturday, doing whatever it is that you do,” Scott said with a smile, before heading out to the parking lot. For a moment Stiles considered hollering after him and telling him that he would be there, but no words came. 

“McCall, really?” Isaac asked, leaning against the lockers next to Stiles. Stiles shrugged, not really looking at Isaac, he was still trying to figure out if he was going to go to the party or not.

“Do you want a ride Saturday?” Isaac asked. Stiles rolled his eyes and turned to look at Isaac, who was wearing that scarf that Stiles hated. The one that made him look like such a pretentious asshole. The one that reminded Stiles that humanity had very little hope with people liked Isaac in it, but then again they were best friends and only Stiles was allowed to think that.

“A ride where?”

“To the party,” Isaac said, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Why would I need a ride to a party I wasn’t invited to?”

“So, you can go, and I don’t know maybe so you can stare at Scott McHot while he chugs too many beers?” Isaac teased.

“Really, Isaac? Scott McHot? Dude, that’s lame,” Stiles said, finally turning to get his stuff out of his locker so he could leave and go home.

“I’m not the one who likes him,” Isaac said.

“Hey, Isaac, shut up. I do not like him. I wouldn’t like him because he’s a fucking ray of sunshine and I’m not. I don’t do rays of sunshine Isaac, and neither should you,” Stiles said, quickly shoving his books into his bag, slamming his locker, and getting set to leave.

“Okay, don’t go. Spend the night home alone, re-watching the Star Wars movies for the hundredth time, because you're too scared to even try being social,” Isaac said flippantly as he waited for Stiles to start walking out to his jeep. He was going to take advantaged of every second he had with Stiles, so that he could convince him to go to the party Saturday. 

“Fine I won’t go, and you won’t make me,” Stiles said firmly, his eyes glancing over to Isaac’s. For a second the two were caught in a battle of eye dominance, but in the end it was Stiles who looked away and started to walk out to his car. 

“Stiles-”

“No Isaac. Look I have to get home so I can get the house clean before my dad gets home tonight,” Stiles said, not stopping his walk to the car.

“Then I’ll help. Besides, cleaning your house has to be better than going home to my old man,” Isaac said. Stiles paused, he knew Isaac was right, coming home with him was always better than returning to an alcoholic father who beat Isaac. Even with all the hard work Stiles had done to get Isaac’s father put in jail the slimy bastard still slipped away and got to take Isaac home, because Isaac wouldn’t testify. Isaac just didn’t have the heart to speak out against the man who had raised him.

“Fine, but no more talk of Scott McHot. I mean, damn it, Scott McCall!” Stiles snapped. Isaac chuckled and slung his arm over Stile’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry Stiles, you’ll stop with those Freudian slips soon.”

The car ride back to Stiles house was quiet since Isaac was following in his car. Stiles didn’t really even feel like listening to music, he just wanted silence so he could think. For the last three weeks he had spent approximately 24 hours with Scott. That meant he had spent an entire day of his life with Scott. The two of them had only hung out, by themselves outside of group six times. Each time had been right after group and it had usually been to get food before Scott went to work. The conversations were nice, and Scott was always so kind to him, so maybe Stiles was starting to like him. Or, maybe Stiles was just a sucker for kindness, since no one had been that nice to him since seventh grade. Stiles sighed before jumping out of his jeep and waiting for Isaac to join him at the front door.

“You know, it’s not that bad,” Isaac said, looking around. Of course there was some minor cleaning to be done but that was to be expected the house was lived in, unlike his which looked like no one lived there. 

“Well can you pick up the trash in the living room, fold the blankets, fix the pillows and then join me in the kitchen to dry the dishes?” Stiles asked, setting his bag down next to the door.

“Of course sweetheart, and while I’m at it shall I kiss your feet and cook you dinner?” Isaac asked.

“Shut it,” Stiles warned before heading into the kitchen to start work on the pile of dishes. He knew it wouldn’t take Isaac long, so by the time he had gotten everything piled correctly and started to scrub, Isaac had joined him.

“You know, I think it’s cute you have a crush on Scott. I mean he’s always been nice to me, so why wouldn’t he be nice to you?” Isaac asked, playing with the drying towel. He always had to be doing something with his hands, Stiles had noticed. Maybe it was a calming gesture, like how Stiles always chewed on pen caps.

“You know, I think it’s cute you're going to Lydia’s party when you know she’s with Jackson,” Stiles said, looking at Isaac over his shoulder.

“Things can happen when you're drunk. Actually, things have happened when Lydia was drunk,” Isaac said with a happy smirk. Stiles rolled his eyes before turning back to the dishes.

“You know that’s not okay. If she’s drunk she can’t really give consent,” Stiles said handing a plate to Isaac.

“She came onto me and it’s usually before she is drunk. She usually finds me once Jackson has started a game of beer pong and she takes me out to the boathouse,” Isaac explained drying the plate.

“So Lydia Martin is cheating on Jackson Whittemore with you? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” Stiles muttered handing Isaac a group of forks. Isaac sighed but kept his mouth shut, he wasn’t going to talk to Stiles about this, so the washing and drying was done in silence. Once the two had finished Stiles looked at Isaac and shrugged.

“Video games?” He asked.

“Only if you're ready to lose,” Isaac replied, cockily. 

“Oh no, you’re on,” Stiles said heading into the living room to set up Marvel Vs Capcom. Isaac was going to pick Hawkeye, Akuma, and Storm as his team, and Stiles would pick Spider-Man, Felicia, and Deadpool as usual.

“So is Scott McHot more Marvel or DC?” Isaac asked as the start screen loaded. Stiles bit his lip thinking.

“Honestly I think Scott has no idea there are even two franchises. I think he likes superheroes but I’m pretty sure he couldn’t tell you who went where, you know?” Stiles asked making sure to set his team colors as he picked everyone; Deadpool always went first, then Felicia and finally Spider-Man all in their black costumes. Isaac on the other hand just picked them, haphazardly, so their costumes never matched. It always bothered Stiles, slightly, but he’d never mention it because he knew Isaac would just put them in their really awkward colors that definitely didn’t match anything the other’s were wearing. 

“Well, if Scott had to pick is he more DC or Marvel?” Isaac asked, watching the bird flapping in the background as the lead players made snide remarks at each other. 

“I bet he’s more DC. I think Scott is too nice to be Marvel. He’s like a boy scout so he’s definitely Superman,” Stiles explained backing Storm into a corner so she couldn’t break his combo.

“So you rather be Lois Lane? I taken you for more of a Peggy Carter. I mean, if he’s a boy scout shouldn’t he be Cap?” Isaac asked forcing a cross over so that he could get out of the corner. 

“Well Cap has his dark side, where he crosses a little because he wants to do good. Cap would easily have killed for his friends and family whereas Clark would have just put them in jail. See, he’s Clark and I guess I’m Lois Lane even if I’m more of a James,” Stiles said, easily finishing off Storm and luckily catching Akuma in the ultimate move as well. 

“Oh so, dark and mysterious. You know the entire world ships you with Natasha, right?” Isaac asked through slightly clenched teeth. 

“I ship myself with Natasha I’d tap that Russian ass all night long,” Stiles muttered. 

“Yeah,” Isaac muttered, leaning back into the couch as Stiles finished him off, “Your a lucky bastard you know that?” Isaac asked, sending them back to the character screen so he could try another team. 

“Or, I’m just better at this game than you are,” Stiles said, keeping his team the same and only changing their assist. 

“I still think its because you picked a fast team. Hell I can’t even get a move out before you force me back into a corner,” Isaac said.

“Kind of like you when we talk?” Stiles jabbed, quickly with a smirk.

“That’s not true. I do not physically corner you when we are having a conversation,” Isaac defended.

“No, you’re wrong. Trust me, I know you Isaac. If I hadn’t made and exit for my car you would have backed me against my locker and pressured me about Scott,” Stiles said getting ready to press start. 

“Don’t,” Isaac said, grabbing the remote out of Stiles hand.

“Give me back my controler,” Stiles demanded.

“Not until you say you’re going to the party.”

“I’m not going.”

“You’re going!”

“No I’m not. I don’t want to put myself in that situation. Damn it Isaac, don’t you get it? They all fucking hate me because one time I hurt Jackson. Fuck them. I don’t have to go to have fun!” Stiles snapped angrily ripping his remote away from Isaac.

Isaac grabbed the remote away from Stiles and stared at him. For a moment there was silence. Isaac didn’t care about any of the things that had happened in the past. He had lost his mom as well, and if Jackson had said that to him he would have killed him. Isaac knew that Stiles had been through a lot, but hell everyone had their problems. He just couldn’t understand why someone would deny himself the happiness of being a stupid teenager just because Jackson Whittemore didn’t like you. 

“Go.”

“No.”

“Do you even want to be happy Stiles? Because I honestly don’t think you do. You have this great inability to go to things that would make you happy as a teenager, like this party. You should go and be there with Scott. I’m sure he will need you, after all the last party he was at, he was still dating Allison,” Isaac explained. The thought had really never crossed Stiles mind. He should go for Scott, it was only right, since they were grief buddies. But, even with that thought in his mind he was still scared. No, he was terrified to go to something like that, it almost made him feel claustrophobic, just thinking about all the people who could see him and judge him, and say things about him because they were drunk and had no filter. It terrified him. 

“Isaac, I can’t,” Stiles explained, slowly. He felt shaky just trying to explain his fears. He knew Isaac wouldn’t judge him but, it was just hard. He was so use to keeping it bottled up, because he couldn’t let his dad worry, and now he couldn’t let Scott worry. It was hard, being paper held together with tape and string, trying to pretend to be a rock. 

“Why? Why can’t you put your worries behind you and go have fun? So what if someone says something, they’re drunk and won’t even remember it in the morning. But, you know who will? Scott. Scott will remember you going, and when he’s drunk off his ass, take him home and nurse him in the morning so he sees you, and knows you care. Easy, right?” Isaac asked.

“Did that ever work with Lydia?” Stiles asked. Isaac bit his bottom lip for a moment then sighed handing Stiles back his remote.

“Fuck you.”


	8. Eight

The rest of the week, which was just the next two days, passed with very little communication between Scott and Stiles. Isaac, on the other hand, continued to pester Stiles about the party, and on Saturday, at about three in the afternoon, Stiles decided to go.

[Stiles] Fine. I’ll go to the damn party.

[Isaac] Ah my day was great, I’d be happy to give you a ride.

[Stiles] Good. When will you be here?

[Isaac] Apparently sarcasm is lost on you Stiles.

[Stiles] No. I just chose to ignore it when it’s you.

[Isaac] Fuck you. 

[Stiles] You’ve been saying that a lot lately. I must be as hot as Lydia.

[Isaac] Fuck you.

[Stiles] Can do.  
[Stiles] What time are you coming to pick me up?

[Isaac] 7

Four hours. Stiles had four hours to figure out what to wear, how to do his hair, how to look presentable for a party. He had seen what Isaac wore to a party, simple jeans and a shirt with a scarf, but he was going for Scott. Actually he was going to impress Scott, but that was a totally different subject. 

So, Stiles did what he did best; he thought in the shower. With the hot water pounding against his back, he could feel any and every stray worry slipping away. He would be able to focus on the dilemma at hand now that his worries were gone. He started to soap up his body as he thought about all the clothes he owned. He figured he might just wear the blue and red plaid button up that he was suppose to wear on dates, but was that too formal? No, not if he wore one of his t-shirts under it.

“Perfect,” He muttered to himself as he let the soap run out of his hair. That problem was solved, and he was slowly getting clean. He groped around until he found his washcloth. He put soap on it then started with his armpits. He had to smell nice, because if him and Scott got intimate, he didn’t want to offend Scott with his body odor. There was a lot of things Stiles wanted to do to Scott, but that wasn’t one of them. He did, however, want to kiss those perfect lips; they were so round, and always flushed red from Scott’s constant lip chewing. Honestly he was worse than Isaac, but then again Stiles didn’t think of Isaac in that way, like he did Scott.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered, dropping his washcloth. He groaned and leaned back against the wall for a second thinking back to the night Scott had a nightmare. He could still feel the way Scott’s fevered lips pressed against his in desperation. They both had needed to be touched. No, they both wanted to be touched. They wanted to feel some connection to the human race that was purely primal. 

Stiles groaned squeezing his eyes as he imagined Scott kneeling before him, lips wrapped around his cock. If only it were real, Stiles would reach down and take a fist full of Scott’s hair in his hand and start to move his hips until Scott and him synched their rhythms. 

“Scott,” Stiles hissed, his hand gripping his cock, roughly. As he started to stroke himself Stiles realized that Scott had probably never been with a boy before. Actually he was beyond sure that Scott had never been with another man, it just wasn’t his style. 

Stiles sighed as he realized that getting his cock anywhere near that perfect ass was beyond out of the question. Well, maybe while he was drunk. No, that was rape and Stiles was pretty sure that was never a good thing. So, Stiles went back to thinking about Scott sucking his cock. He could practically feel Scott’s warm tongue sliding along his shaft, lapping at it like it was the most delicious popsicle he had ever eaten. 

“Shit, Scott,” Stiles cried reaching around to slide a finger into his own ass. That was really all it took to get Stiles off, just the sting of penetration and the image of Scott deepthroating his cock. 

“Damn,” Stiles whispered when he started to come down from his orgasm. The water had started to turn cold on him and he needed to rewash his body. So, he quickly washed himself, did his hair, and jumped out the shower since water was now ice cold. 

Stiles walked over to his phone and looked down. He had four text messages. Two were from Isaac, one was from Erica, and the last one was from Scott.

[Scott] So what are you doing tonight. You know, since you’re not going to the party.

[Stiles] Oh I’m actually going to the party. 

[Scott] Really?

[Stiles] Yeah. Isaac is giving me a ride but I’m gonna to be the DD. You should come with us.  
[Stiles] If you plan to drink that is.

[Scott] Oh that actually sounds like a good idea. I wasn’t going to go, because I couldn’t get a DD but since you offered…

[Stiles] Perfect.  
[Stiles] Be at my place at 7?

[Scott] See you then :D

Stiles smiled and looked at the other messages.

[Isaac] Hey Erica needs a ride mind if she comes with?

[Stiles] I offered a ride to Scott. Will there be enough room?

[Isaac] No. You need to take your car.

[Stiles] What? There will plenty of room! 

[Isaac] No there won’t.

[Stiles] Your car seats five! You. Me. Erica. Scott. Thats 4!

[Isaac] Still. No. You drive Scott. Be safe. Have fun ;P

[Stiles] I hate you.

[Isaac] I know.

And with that, the two were done texting. He glanced at Erica’s message but decided against replying since it was about her riding with him and Isaac. All that was really left for Stiles to do was wait. He had approximately two hours until Scott would be at his door, he needed to eat, and finish getting dressed since he was just lounging on his bed in his towel. 

“Clothes then food, come on Stilinski,” He muttered putting his phone on the charger before heading to his closet. Now he had to pick what he was going to wear. Of course it was casual but he did want to look nice. Well not overly dressed nice, but nice enough. After five minutes of debating he decided on a pair of normal dark colored jeans and a blue and white plaid shirt, surprise right? Stiles really didn’t care if it was normal he thought he looked pretty great in the outfit. So, he got dressed, re did his hair, and headed downstairs to get food. 

As always the Stilinski family fridge was stocked with a weird assortment of food. Since his dad was the sheriff he never had time to really go get groceries, so they just bought food as they went. Inside there was the leftovers from the chinese food Stiles had ordered last night for him and his dad, since it was the first time they had eaten dinner together in about two weeks. 

“Sweet and Sour pork it is,” He said grabbing the box full of the pork, and the box that was full of rice. For a moment he pondered putting it on a plate, but he just couldn’t be helped to do so. So, cold Chinese food and an episode of Gotham is what helped him pass the time. At seven sharp there was a knock on the door. Stiles blinked, looked at the clock, then freaked out. 

“Shit! Shit! I’m not ready,” He said grabbing the empty Chinese containers and running them to the trashcan in the kitchen. 

Another knock.

“Fuck my breath!” He cried, desperately searching for some gum, or a tick tack, or something to help him. 

Another knock.

“Fuck! He cried before walking over to the door and pulling it open.

“Hey,” Scott said with that sweet smile that made Stiles wish he had found some gum.

“Come in. I’m almost ready,” Stiles said, moving so Scott could come in. Once Scott was inside and the door was shut, Stiles went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He scoured his room until he was able to find a pack of gum, popped in a piece and headed back down to Scott. 

“You ready?” Stiles asked looking at Scott who had sat down and started watching the episode of Gotham that Stiles had been watching.

“Oh yeah,” Scott said, getting up, “You look good, by the way,” he added. Stiles rolled his eyes before placing his arm over Scott’s shoulders.

“Thanks Scotty, but tonight is not about me. Tonight is about you. We are going to get you wasted. So wasted you don’t remember your upset. Got it?” Stiles asked.

“As long as you’re the one driving,” Scott replied draping his arm around Stiles shoulders. “Let’s go,” He said walking with Stiles towards the door. For a moment Stiles felt like this was going to be a good idea. Every amount of fear he had, going into this situation, was gone. 

Two hours, three beers and one shot later Stiles found himself out in the back with Scott’s body pressed hard against his. Scott’s hands had moved up Stiles shirt, sometime between the sloppy make out without tongue and the sloppy make out with tongue. Stiles hips were grinding, desperately against Scott’s in hopes of finding just the right amount of friction to get off. 

“Scott, stop,” Stiles said, pushing against Scott’s wide, warm shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna,” Scott slurred, his body swaying as he stood.

“We can’t do this. Not here,” he insisted as Scott’s hands wrapped around his waist and his lips pressed into his neck.

“Come on Stiles. It will be fun,” He said with a soft laugh as he started to suck. Stiles groaned pushing against Scott again. His body begged for Scott to keep going but Stiles knew this was dangerous. He knew that if they kept going then they would get caught, and that was a fate worse than death. 

“Could we maybe do this at my place?” Stiles asked as Scott thrust his hand under Stiles pants. “Or, or not!” Stiles cried his voice cracking a little. He could feel Scott hand, cool and a little clammy, against his cock. He was tugging in rough untimed motions that made Stiles reached up to cover his mouth with his hands. His eyes rolling back a little as he rested his head against the cool wall of the house. 

Scott chuckled as he leaned forward and left a shiny trail of spit from Stiles ear to his collarbone where he then bit down, drawing a desperate cry from Stiles. His eyes looked up at Stiles and for a moment there was a rush of carnal desire. He wanted to hear more of those noises from Stiles. He wanted to hear the brunette with whiskey eyes cry his name, and beg for him. It was something Scott had never felt before, but he liked it.

“Scott,” Stiles gasped as Scott lowered himself down to his knees and started to fumble around with Stiles’ belt buckle. It seemed to be posing quite a challenge so Stiles made quick work of it before casting it to the side. His pants now hung loosely to his thin frame. 

“God Stiles,” Scott growled as he yanked Stiles pants down, leaving him in just his navy blue boxer briefs. He leaned forward and nuzzled into Stiles crotch for a moment before running his hands under the band and pulling them down.

“Shit,” Stiles hissed, reaching down and grabbing a fist full of Scott’s hair. For a moment they looked at each other giving each other the silent permission they both needed to continue, but Scott still didn’t start. He just wanted to sit there and look at Stiles cock. He could remember it from last time but still there was something about being face to face with it that made Scott want to puke. 

“Stiles, I-” Scott twisted violently throwing himself back away from Stiles as his stomach wrenched. The sour taste of alcohol and pizza hanging heavy on his breath as his eyes welled up with tears. Everything hurt and the world was spinning. Scott felt a mixture of hot and cold hitting his body as Stiles arms grabbed him and pulled him into a sitting position so he didn’t fall face down into his own vomit.

“Wait here,” Stiles instructed, gripping his pants and rushing inside. He quickly found the kitchen and what looked like an unused red solo cup. He filled it with tap water and returned to Scott just in time to see Isaac and Lydia emerging from the boat house. 

“How much has he had?” Lydia asked, sweeping her hair back into a ponytail. 

“Not too much. I think he’s had three beers and one shot,” Stiles explained as he helped Scott drink the water.

“And he’s throwing up because of that?” Lydia asked kneeling down next to Scott as well.

“No. It’s more like three beers, one normal shot, and like six Jello shots because those are good. What did you put in them?” He asked.

“I didn’t make Jello shots,” Lydia said, standing up, “I guess I better go check on that,” She said heading off, followed by Isaac. Stiles groaned as he sat next to Scott, his eyes glancing towards the vomit. This is exactly what he was scared was going to happen. He was going to end up with a drunk Scott and he was going to have to take care of him.

“Do you think you can stand?” He asked. Scott shrugged as he moved to lean on Stiles. His body felt heavy against Stiles weak frame, but it wasn’t a bad thing, that just mean he was done for the night. At least with Scott like this he didn’t have to deal with him drinking anymore. He honestly never saw Scott pick up a Jello shot, but he had been a little busy talking to Isaac about what he should do if Scott got handsy. So much for that plan though, because the second Scott touched his cock he lost it. He still did want to fuck him, and feel his lips around his cock, but now he needed to focus on Scott’s health. He needed to prove his worth, as Isaac would put it.

“Stiles. Do you think she’s okay?” Scott asked, suddenly. 

“What?” Stiles asked, looking down at Scott.

“Allison. Do you think she is okay? You know, in heaven or, you know, wherever people go when they die. I mean Ally is, Ally was…” He paused closing his eyes. “Ally was the best thing that ever happened to me, and now she’s gone, you know?” He finally said, looking up at Stiles, “So, do you think she is okay?” He asked.

“I- I’m positive she’s fine,” He said, trying not to feel his heart sinking in his chest. 

“She deserves so much better than fine. She deserves everything. It should have been me, you know? I just wish it had been me. It’s not like many people would miss me when I’m gone. They will miss Ally so much more than they would ever miss me. I mean, I have no one. No one at all who cares about me the way I cared about Ally. I mean Lydia was her best friend and Ally was mine so now my world has just gone to hell. I mean honestly how does she think it’s okay to just go and die? What gave her the right to do that without me? She could have at least taken me with her, you know?”

“Honestly Scott, I don’t. I don’t really know what it’s like to be the one without everyone. I mean yeah I don’t have a lot of people but I do have Erica, Isaac, and Boyd. I mean I lost Matt, but it’s not my first loss. I mean hell, I lost my mom and that was devastating,” Stiles said with a huff. Just thinking back to that day made his skin crawl. He already knew things were bad, but it didn’t dawn on him how bad it was until the very in. He had to say goodbye to her with her hands cuffed to the side of the bed to help her from hurting herself when she shook. Even then she looked like she was going to fall apart. Her speech was odd and everything seemed so broad and general. She had called him boy. Not son. Not Stiles. Boy. That was the last word he ever heard out of her mouth, and he hated it. He hated it so much that when he dad use to say he was such a good boy that he would shake and start to cry. He would ball his hands into tight fist and scream at the top of his lungs that he wasn’t a boy he was a man. His dad wouldn’t know how to react he’d just shut himself off and drink some more until they both had forgotten that the incident had ever happened.

“It is not the same as losing your first love. But you don’t get that. You’re Creepy Stilinski and no one will ever love you,” Scott whispered, his eyes drifting closed, his speech losing every bit of form it could have. Stiles felt his heart drop into his stomach as he stood up and pushed Scott off him. Scott’s body his the ground as his eyes popped open and he scrambled to get up and gain his bearings as Stiles stormed off to his jeep.

[Stiles] Take Scott home.  
[Stiles] I’m leaving.

[Isaac] Why?  
[Isaac] What happened?

[Stiles] Nothing.   
[Stiles] Fuck you.   
[Stiles] I didn’t even want to come to this shitty party anyways. 

[Isaac] Dude you’re over reacting. 

Stiles tossed his phone into the seat next to him before slamming his foot down onto the gas and peeling away from the party. His eyes stung with tears as he drove, silently telling himself that he knew this would never work out.


	9. Nine

Two days had passed since the party and Scott was now back at school. He hadn’t heard from Stiles since the party. Scott had sent a few text messages but there was no reply. He had really messed up and honestly he was trying to make up for it, but Stiles was having none of it. So, there Scott sat, in Mr. Harris’ class listening, and pretending to take notes. Actually, what he was doing was writing a letter to Stiles. He knew that if he wrote a letter and left it in Stiles locker then Stiles would read it. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t, but it was worth a shot, right?

“Hey, McCall,” Jackson whispered from behind him.

“What?” Scott muttered.

“Are you coming with us after school?” He asked.

“To see Allison?”

“No to see Matt. Of course we’re going to see Allison you dipshit. Are you coming or not?” Jackson hissed.

“Of course I’m coming. Why are you asking?”

“Because Lydia wanted to bail. She wanted to know if you could take the flowers for us,” Jackson said. Scott felt his heart drop in his chest. He knew that Lydia was doing her best to move on, but honestly this was terrible. He knew that she hadn’t visited Alison's grave since the incident, and today was suppose to be the day. She had claimed she was ready, but apparently not.

“Fine,” Scott huffed, continuing to work on his letter. He needed to get it done by the end of class, because he was going to past Stiles locker on his way to the locker room. Jackson tapped him on the shoulder causing him to turn around and come face to face with some flowers.

“Well, you do come prepared,” Scott muttered, taking the flowers from Jackson and setting them on his desk as he continued to write the note. Lucky for him, Harris didn’t see any of the exchange so Scott would live another day without detention.

After class, Scott dropped the note in Stiles’ locker, went to practice, and then made his way to the graveyard. Of course, he had imagined things going pretty differently. After all, he didn’t imagine Stiles being mad at him, and he didn’t imagine being alone with Alison's grave. Actually, the last part wasn’t incredibly far fetched. He was pretty sure that if it had come to this and him and Stiles were talking he would have invited him, but no. Here he stood, holding cheap flowers, and looking down at a grave that said “My flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

“Hey, Ally,” Scott said, sitting down on the ground and setting the flowers in front of her headstone, “How are you?” He asked. Of course there was no response, but Scott didn’t expect anything more. Honestly if someone had replied he’d probably freak out.

For a moment he just sat there, looking at the grave. As always, when face with Allison’s death, the regrets popped back up. Like how he regretted not fighting harder for her, or how he regretted getting detention that day. Honestly, he had no idea how she ended up going home with Matt, the two hardly spoke, but it must have been enough to get her home.

“You know, one day I’ll be able to move on, so you won’t have to worry about me anymore,” Scott said, out loud, which honestly surprised him. Of course everyone has seen a movie where you converse with a headstone, but Scott never thought it would be him to do it. Actually Scott never imagined someone would die this early in his life. 

“And you know, maybe one day I’ll be able to get over the you and me not working out thing as well. Well, I guess I mean, that I’m trying to do that. Maybe I not. I don’t know. I thought I was, you know? I thought maybe I was trying this gay thing with Stilinski but you know maybe I’m not. Maybe it’s a rebound and then I’m really screwed because I shouldn’t do that,” Scott said pausing for a moment as he thought about the letter he had written.

Dear Stiles,

Hey it’s me, Scott. You know the one who said some pretty crappy things. I’m sorry. You know I was really trying to just forget at that party and I screwed up. I screwed up pretty badly and I want to say sorry. Okay I already kind of said sorry in the thirty seven (yes I counted) text I sent you. So if you could call me, or text me back, then maybe we could talk? Or not. That’s cool too. Just you know do something so I know you read this, okay?

Scott.

“You know or maybe it’s not a rebound. I mean how long constitutes a rebound?” Scott asked, looking at Allison’s name. He shrugged before moving to lay on his back. His eyes focused on the sky above as he thought for a just a moment about how it had been six long months since him and Allison broke up. Of course he loved her, who wouldn’t still love their first? But, it has been half a year and that meant that he probably was over her. Maybe not to the degree he wanted, but to the degree that maybe this wasn’t a rebound. Maybe this was just Scott acting out after a tragedy. If that was the case the Stiles really was screwed, but Scott was sure he saw something in those amber eyes. He was sure he saw a spark of need. Okay, he could be imagining that, but then again he could be spot on.

“You know,” Scott started, closing his eyes, “You never thought that Stiles was a monster. You never believed Jackson. You always just thought he was just misunderstood. Right?” Scott asked nodding his head. “Yeah, you figured that if we just tried then would could be his friend. Well, you’re right. Stiles is a great guy. He honestly is. He know’s what to say, how to say it. He is smart and you know maybe a little good looking, but I don’t know. I honestly don’t,” Scott said with a sigh. He honestly didn’t know if he liked guys or not, all he knew was that he liked Stiles. He liked spending time with him, kissing him, sucking his cock if he ever got that far again. Okay, he had no idea if he liked sucking off Stiles, but the thoughts wasn’t bad. He just wanted to hear those moans that Stiles had made the night he had the nightmare. 

“I could really like him, if only he could forgive me,” Scott said, with a defeated sigh. “I messed up Allison. I messed up real bad. At the part I told him that the loss of his mom was nothing in comparison to how I felt losing you. I shouldn’t have said that, but I was drunk. I was drunker than I wanted to be, but Jello shots don’t even taste like alcohol. You know, he left. He left and I ended up having to get a ride home from Isaac, which was awkward, because between him, Erica, and Boyd I was the only one drunk. But, that’s all besides the point. The point is, I messed up and I’m pretty sure I’ve missed my chance.”


	10. Ten

Dear Stiles,

Hey it’s me, Scott. You know the one who said some pretty crappy things. I’m sorry. You know I was really trying to just forget at that party and I screwed up. I screwed up pretty badly and I want to say sorry. Okay I already kind of said sorry in the thirty seven (yes i counted) text I sent you. So if you could call me, or text me back, then maybe we could talk? Or not. That’s cool too. Just you know do something so I know you read this, okay?

Scott

Stiles had spent the last ten minutes rereading the note, over and over again until he had every word practically memorized. He was mad, no he was furious. What Scott had said was out of line, even when he was drunk. No one had the right to belittle his mothers death, not now, and not ever. The last person who had done it ended up with their head bashed into the locker. But not Scott, Stiles didn’t have the heart to bash Scott’s head in. 

“You know what, fuck McCall,” He finally decided crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the trashcan. He spun around a little in his chair to look at his laptop. He and Isaac had taken to playing Aion recently and Isaac had been trying to get his attention for the last ten minutes.

Scarvion: Stiles?  
Scarvion: Are you there?  
Scarvion: Yeah I’ll just take care of these fuckers  
Scarvion: Hope you like death because I’m not reviving you  
Scarvion: And I’m leaving to go to Sudorville

Adion: I was AFK  
Adion: Why did you let me die?  
Adion: Fuck I respawned back in BuBu  
Adion: Fuck this I’m getting off

Scarvion: Skype?

Adion: Sure.

Stiles sighed as he logged off and waited for Isaac to call him. The familiar ringing of Skye filled Stiles ears as he clicked on the answer button then moved to lay on his bed with his headphones and his mic.

“I don’t understand why you never sit at your computer when we skype,” Isaac said. 

“Because, if I stayed at my PC then I have to sit up. At least this way I can lay down. Also I don’t want to have to look at your face for the entirety of the conversation,” Stiles joked. 

“Your loss, because I look fucking perfect. You wish you had look’s as good as mine,” Isaac joked, setting to working on his homework as he talked to Stiles.

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I could work the whole stuck up dick look,” Stiles said, rolling onto his side to look at Isaac, who wasn’t even looking at the screen, but Stiles knew he wasn’t happy about the name calling.

“You’re being extra mean, still upset over McHot?” Isaac asked.

“No. Why in the hell would I be upset? He got one chance and he blew it. I’ll get Dr. Hale to un-partner us,” Stiles said.

“No you won’t, because next week is your last session and then after that you’re done,” Isaac said.

“Well then, I guess I just go back to ignoring him,” Stiles said, rolling onto his stomach, his eyes sliding at the trashcan where the note now was. 

“You could, or you could man up and realize he was drunk,” Isaac pointed out.

“Fuck off. I get he was drunk but that’s no excuse to-”

“Last time you were drunk we ended up naked in your bed fucking. I don’t think you have much room to talk,” Isaac said with a harsh click on the k. Stiles groaned closing his eyes.

“Don’t remind me. Look the point is that I’m not dealing with Scott McCall anymore. No text messages and no notes stuffed into a locker will make me think otherwise,” He said, rolling so he was no longer facing his computer. 

“Wait, did you say a note? I wondered what McCall was doing out side your locker,” Isaac muttered.

“Wait,” Stiles said jumping up and rushing over to his computer, “You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Stiles asked.

“Well I didn’t think that it was important. I didn’t know he was putting a sappy love letter in your locker. If I had known that I would have still done nothing. Come on Stiles don’t you want to be the one who show’s McCall all the ropes, you know gay him up?” Isaac asked.

“Isaac that’s not how things work,” Stiles said rubbing his temples. “Look, the point is that I hate him and I don’t care if he’s sorry, I’m not going to forgive him,” Stiles said.

“What did the note say?”

“What?” 

“The note, that Scott left in your locker, what did it say Stiles?” Isaac asked, his tone a little more serious that Stiles was use to.

“It said he was sorry. It’s stuff he has already said,” Stiles explained. 

“I think you should try and talk it out with him. Give him a second chance but let him know that it is his last shot. I know you really like him Stiles, and it would be a pity to pass this up,” Isaac said, looking at Stiles. For a moment they stayed like that, just looking at each other over Skype, wondering who would break first.

“Good night Isaac,” Stiles said, clicking to sign out of Skype. Once he had booted down his computer, he moved to his bed and lay down, his eyes staying stuck on the trashcan. He wanted to give Scott a second chance, he really did because he kind of trusted Scott, which was new for Stiles. 

Stiles had learned very early on that if you let people in they can hurt you. The last time he tried to give someone a second chance Jackson had made sure his entire life was ruined, hence the nickname Creepy Stilinski. It was a bunch of bullshit, and Stiles knew that, but honestly it had changed him. He wasn’t quick to trust, and those he trusted he cherished with all his heart. Like Isaac, God knows that Isaac pissed off Stiles, but he would lay down his life for him in a heartbeat. Same with Matt, but Matt wasn’t here anymore. 

Stiles sighed as he got up to go turn off the light, his eyes lingering on the note for one last second before the room was dark. As he lay down he picked up his phone and sent out a text message.

[Stiles] Tomorrow. You. Me. Your place. No one else.

[Scott] What time?

[Stiles] When does your mom go to work?

[Scott] 3pm.

[Stiles] 330 pm

[Scott] K. See you then.


	11. Eleven

Stiles felt that ever present feeling of anxiety settle deep in his chest, as he pulled up to Scott’s. It was 3:23 and he had seven minutes to get himself together. He knew that if he went in there now, before calming down, he was probably going to cry, or freak out. So, he sat here listening to Punching In A Dream by The Naked and Famous. This was probably his least favorite song on the CD Isaac had burned him, but it’s what was currently playing. After the song ended, Stiles slipped out of the car walking up to the door and knocked.

“Hey,” Scott said, opening the door. Stiles took a moment to take Scott in before he muttered a ‘hey’ and walked into the house. Scott was wearing a shirt that was too tight for him, at least by Stiles standards.

“So, you got my note?” Scott asked, sitting down on the couch next to Stiles.

“Yeah. Look, it was nice and the texts were nice, but that was out of line. I can’t even begin to think of a situation where crappy teenage love trumps the dead mom card,” Stiles said, leaning back into the couch as he drummed his fingers on his thigh. 

“I know, and that’s why I’ve been trying to apologize. Look, I didn’t want to push you away it was kind of nice having someone to talk to again, you know?” Scott asked. 

“No, not really, because most the time I’m not that person,” Stiles explained. “Most the time I’m the person that people keep secrets from, because if I know their secrets, I can hurt them,” Stiles said.

“So, is that why you got so upset?” Scott asked.

“About the mom thing? No, that has nothing to do with it. What I was upset about was the fact that you even said it, because I thought you were better than that. I thought that after all we had been through, you would never do something like that to me. I didn’t expect you to act like Jackson, okay I did at first, but by now I thought,” Stiles paused, his breath hitching in his throat as his hands balled into fist. He was scared; scared to talk to Scott about how he trusted him. He didn’t want Scott to know that Stiles had grown attached to that smile and that laugh, because Stiles was weak. If Scott knew then he could use that against him, and if he did then Stiles would just be broken beyond repair, which was stupid but that’s how teenage love worked, and he knew that.

“That I knew better,” Scott said, placing his hand on top of one of Stiles’ clenched fist.

“Yeah,” He muttered, pulling away from the warm touch.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drank so much, I should have only drank what I told you I was going to, but you were talking to Isaac, and everywhere I looked I saw Allison so I kept drinking, but I’m not going to do that ever again. I don’t want to put myself in a state of mind where I hurt you. It’s not fair, you have enough to deal with, without me hurting you as well,” Scott said, this time taking Stiles’ hand from him. Stiles sighed and looked up at Scott.

“That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Stiles said, softly. Scott smiled leaning in closer to him so that Stiles had no choice to look at Scott. They were silent, staring at each other. Stiles could feel the warmth radiating from Scott and it made his heart flutter, which wasn’t too hard for Stiles, not when he felt like this.

“People should say nicer things to you more often, because your eyes light up,” Scott said, reaching up to cup Stiles’ cheek, making Stiles breath hitch in his chest. That ever present feeling of anxiety bubbled up in his chest as he sat perfectly still letting Scott move closer and closer to him.

“Don’t bite your lip,” Scott said, touching Stiles’ rough lips. Stiles hadn’t even noticed he was biting his bottom lip until Scott pointed it out.

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered as Scott traced his bottom lip with his thumb. There was something about the closeness, about the touching that just sent Stiles over the edge, made him move so that he had Scott pushed down on the couch and their lips were touching. There was something that made him straddle the other boy and press his body closer and closer to him until a moan could be drawn away from Scott’s lips.

“Stiles,” Scott moaned between desperate kisses that ended with Scott’s tongue in Stiles mouth. He was exploring each and every crevice of Stiles teeth, mapping it out in hope of memorizing it. Stiles’ hands were gripping Scott’s shoulders in desperation.

“Yeah?” Stiles breathed into the kiss.

“Bedroom?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, continuing the kiss. No movement, just hands roaming over body parts and tongue swirling against each other. 

“Bed?”

“Yeah.” Stiles said again, this time getting up off of Scott. It took very little time for Scott to get up and drag Stiles to his room. Once they did make it to Scott’s room, Stiles found himself pressed against the door. The knob dug into his back as Scott rocked his hips against Stiles and sucked a dark hickey into his neck.

“Shit,” Stiles growled, moving away from the door as he reached up to pull on Scott’s hair.

“Sorry,” Scott muttered as he nuzzled into Stiles neck before standing up to kiss Stiles on the lips. This time it was softer. Stiles gripped onto Scott shoulders afraid he might vanish and leave him there feeling all of this without him.

“Calm down,” Scot whispered against Stiles lips as he reached up to take Stiles’ hands in his own. Stiles nodded, unable to speak as Scott pressed his lips back against Stiles. Stiles made sure to keep breathing, enjoying the way that Scott was leading the kiss with passion and love, if that’s what the emotion was.

“Stop!” Stiles finally gasped, reality settling in again, as he pulled away from Scott.

“This, this emotion you’re showing, it’s not real. I’m just a fucking rebound and you just want to fuck me. So if that’s how it is, don’t be soft and gentle, use me Scott!” Stiles practically yelled. 

“No, that- that’s not true! At least, I don’t think it is. Look, I don’t know how to do anything else. I always tried to treat Allison like she was a queen so we were always soft. I don’t know how to be rough,” Scott explained.

“Then let me lead,” Stiles said grabbing Scott by the shirt, and pulling him in for another kiss. This time it was rough. Teeth clacked against each other as Stiles forced his tongue into Scott’s mouth. His body twisted and now Scott was pressed into the door with all of Stiles’ weight against him. 

“Shit,” Scott growled into the kiss as he desperately scraped his nails along Stiles’ back in hopes of finding his shoulders to hold on to, but there was no hope. Stiles reached down and grabbed Scott’s hands, pressing them into the door as he crowded in as close as he could.

“Clothes,” Stiles stated, starting to peel Scott’s shirt off of him. Scott took the cue and removed Stiles so that now they were both just in pants and underwear, but Stiles didn’t stop. He unbuttoned Scott’s pants and took them, and his boxers, off with one quick drop to his knees. Stiles stared up at Scott from where he was now before reaching up and giving Scott’s cock a few pumps. Scott’s head pressed back into the door as he grit his teeth and grabbed at Stiles’ hair.

Stiles groaned before leaning forward and taking Scott into his mouth. It was weird, Stiles had always wanted to see Scott down on his knees in this position, but the tables were turned. Stiles was pretty sure he was never going to get to see Scott down on his knees like this, but it didn’t matter right now. All that mattered right now was getting Scott hard so he could ride him.

“God, you're good at that,” Scott said, pressing his head back into the door as he started to rock his hips. Stiles pressed his fingers into Scotts hips, causing him to slow his thrusts so Stiles didn’t have to work as hard. With Scott’s cock in his mouth Stiles actually felt pretty empowered; it was like Isaac said, he was showing him the ropes.

Stiles pulled away so now the tip just barely rested inside his mouth. His tongue slowly and methodically licked and sucked on the flared head. It was so sensitive that Scott let out a low whimper, but didn’t stop Stiles from doing what he was doing. He liked the way it made him want to move, but Stiles was having none of that. Scott could feel Stiles fingers pressing firmly into his hips, so he didn’t dare move.

“Feels good right?” Stiles muttered, after pulling away from Scott’s cock.

“Yeah, why’d you stop?” Scott asked, releasing Stiles hair.

“I don’t want you to cum yet,” Stiles said, standing up and wiggling out of his own pants and walking over to the bed. “Lube?” He asked.

“Oh yeah,” Scott said walking across the hall to get the lube and condoms. It was just a simple massage oil that doubled as lube, but it would work.

“Okay, Scott, have you ever lubed up an ass before?” Stiles asked, knowing full well that Scott was going to say no.

“Well, I’ve played with my own ass before, so it can’t be that hard right?” Scott asked with a small sheepish grin. Stiles actually felt pretty amazed that Scott had actually played with his own ass. Most ‘straight’ guys he knew had never even considered it, but Scott had.

“W-Why did you play with your ass?” Stiles asked, running his tongue over his lips, the mental image of Scott laying on his stomach and reaching back to fingerfuck himself somehow made Stiles want him even more.

“Well, I happened to walk into the kitchen and my mom had left a pamphlet on masturbation on the table and how it wasn’t evil. So I read it and found out about our prostate and I guess I just had to try it,” Scott admitted, sitting down on his bed and looking at Stiles.

“Well, I guess that’s a good reason. How long ago was this?” Stiles asked, looking over at Scott’s cock. It was getting soft again, but Stiles would easily get it back up.

“I guess about a year ago,” Scott said with a shrug. “So are we still going to do this or should I get dressed?” He asked.

“No. No. Don’t put on your clothes, we are going to do this, I just was curious about your sexual habits that’s all,” Stiles said quickly before reaching over and starting to pump Scott’s cock vigorously. “Think we can do sixty nine?” He asked, not slowing his motions. 

“Yeah sure,” Scott said, his breath catching his throat as Stiles pumped him.

“Good cuz you’re gonna to lube my ass, okay?” Stiles asked handing him the lube and letting go of his cock.

“And what are you going to do?” Scott asked.

“Well, I’m going to try to open a portal to another world.”

“Really?”

“No I’m going to suck your cock, now fucking lay down,” Stiles said pushing Scott just a little. Scott blinked but lay down and waited for Stiles to get into position above him.

“Good?” Stiles asked.

“Not really, I mean I can get there, but I’d do better if you were laying on your stomach,” Scott explained. Stiles shook his head to the side a little in acknowledgement before he moved off of Scott.

“How do you want me?” Stiles asked.

“Uh,” Scott paused not sure what to say. 

“On your hands and knees?” He asked. Stiles nodded slowly, before moving so he was on his hands and knees with his ass facing Scott. Scott took a moment to look at Stiles ass before he opened the lube and dropped a few drops on the waiting hole. Stiles gripped the sheets just a little because of how cold the lube was on his hole, but he knew that soon it would get warm with Scott’s fingers inside of him.

Scott took a long deep breath as he looks at Stiles. He was enjoying the way that Stiles was spread out before him on his hands and knees. Scott reached forward parting Stiles’ cheeks just enough to run his pointer finger around the rim of Stiles anus. Stiles groaned a little rocking back towards Scott’s finger, but Scott didn’t enter him yet, he was enjoying the reactions he was getting from Stiles.

“Damn it, Scott, just put your finger in me,” Stiles finally blurted out. Scott was a little taken aback by this but he listened, he slid his pointer finger all the way into Stiles. This drew a groan out of Stiles as he relaxed his arms and lay with his face and chest on the bed. 

Scott watched the way Stiles gave into the pleasure he was now feeling. It was interesting to see him in such a vulnerable position. Stiles was always on alert and he had expressed to Scott, recently, that he didn’t like being hurt, so seeing him like a dog with it’s belly up, made Scott feel a rush of something. Maybe it was a rush of joy, or love, or something, Scott had no idea. All Scott knew was that he felt like he needed to protect Stiles from any and all harm that would come to him.

“Scott you need to move your finger or add another or something I can’t do all the work like this,” Stiles stated, pulling Scott out of his daze.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” He said adding a second finger and starting to spread them as he moved them in and out of Stiles.

Stiles groaned, rocking his hips in time with Scott’s slow thrust. His teeth came down on his bottom lip as he struggled to hold back Scott’s name. He knew that say that now meant he was feeling something. He had never actually moaned someone’s name during sex; he had always told himself that moaning someone’s name was meant for a very close and intimate experience and this was not supposed to be a very close and intimate situation. No. This was sex. This was the type of sex you have behind closet doors, in passionate burst. The type of sex where you do it without thinking and you just enjoy the feeling of reverting back to animal instinct. Not the type you do at night where you're focused on how close your body is to another person’s. Not the type of sex where you feel love and connection. This sex was not that sex, at least that what Stiles kept trying to tell himself, because this was Scott McCall. Scott was friends with Jackson and Jackson was incapable of understanding what passion was. Jackson only understood how to be an animal, and that’s how Scott was supposed to be, because he was Jackson’s friend.

“Stiles, is this good enough?” Scott asked. Sometime, without Stiles real knowledge, Scott had managed to get a third finger into him, pick up the pace, and bring him very close to an orgasm.

“Fuck yeah,” Stiles finally choked out, before pulling away from Scott, “Put on the condom, I’m going to ride you,” Stiles explained running his tongue along his lip to find that it was bloody.

“Is your lip okay?” Scott asked, leaning forward to touch Stiles who batted away his hand. 

“Condom. Put it on, you know, while you’re still hard,” Stiles said. No emotions. He did not want emotions. Of course, his lip hurt like a bitch now, but that was his own damn fault. 

“Right, right,” Scott said quickly putting on the condom. Once the condom was on Stiles wasted no time pushing Scott down and snatching the lube. He added a liberal amount to the condom before he straddled Scott. It took a few seconds and some help from Scott but Stiles eventually was able to sink all the way so that Scott was fully inside of him. He rested his hands on Scott’s chest and took a few deep breaths before starting to move up and down on Scott’s lap.

“God Stiles, you're really good at this. Like super good. Like amazingly good,” Scott said, laying still below Stiles. His eyes gazed up looking at Stiles and watching the way his face twisted with each movement. 

“Thanks,” Stiles choked out looking down at Scott. Scott was smiling, and once he got use to it he started to move his hips. His cheeks were getting flushed which was interesting sight to see, since his skin was tanned beautifully.

“Stiles you’re so hot. Your probably one of the hottest things I’ve seen since Allison. You're so confident, and strong willed. I’m lucky. I’m so fucking lucky,” Scott said, his eyes squeezing closed as he rocked his hips up and down his hands reaching up to grab Stiles’ hands. He needed to touch him, feel him close to him.

“Shit, Scott. Your cock is huge and your face is fucking perfect,” Stiles said, tilting his head back as his eyes closed as well. They kept moving up and down, enjoying how close they were. And that’s when it happened. Stiles found his prostate and slammed down onto Scott’s cock.

“Scott!” He cried feeling his cock explode. His cum sprayed onto his stomach and dribbled down onto Scott. Sending Scott into his own orgasm. The two lay there panting and looking at each other until they heard a cough from the door. Scott and Stiles head’s both whipped to the side to see Jackson standing there mortified.

“What the fuck McCall!” Jackson snapped making Scott and Stiles jump. Stiles quickly stumbled off the bed and started to grab his clothes tears forming in his eyes as he pulled on his boxers and rushed out the door, past Jackson.

“That’s right, run you faggoty piece of trash!” Jackson yelled before turning to look at Scott. Scott could feel his heart pounding his chest as Jackson tossed his boxers over to him.

“How the hell did you get in?” Scott asked.

“Door was open. I rang the bell and knocked but got no answer, so I let myself in,” Jackson explained, leaning against the door.

“Jackson, that’s not right. You can’t just walk into someone’s house.”

“Good thing I did. You know it’s not okay to hang out with him,” Jackson said.

“With who, Stiles? Why is it not okay? Jackson, he hasn’t touched you since the incident. I don’t see why I can’t hang out with him,” Scott said, firmly.

“Because, Scott, we’re better than him. We don’t need people like him in our lives. He not going to make anything of himself, and people like you and me are destined for greatness,” Jackson said.

“Jackson, he’s not that bad honestly, I think you’re overreacting,” Scott said, pulling on his boxers, after disposing of the condom.

“No, McCall I’m not. Look, you're either with me or you’re with him, there is none of this both sides shit. So, what is it going to be?” Jackson asked.

“Him,” Scott said, without even thinking about it. “Because at least Stiles cares about me. So, Jackson get out of my house,” Scott said, standing up.

“This is a mistake, McCall. You are making a huge mistake,” Jackson said, before turning and storming out. Scott sighed and quickly pulled on some clothes, jumped on his bike and headed over to Stiles’ house.

Stiles had returned home, ignored his dad, and stormed up to his room. The tears stung in his eyes as he collapsed on his bed. Why did he go over to Scott’s? Why did he even bother doing this? It was pointless. He didn’t need to try and make up with Scott he knew he would get hurt. 

“Stiles, Scott’s here,” His dad called from downstairs. Stiles felt his body shake at the sound of Scott’s name. Why was he here? Was he here to taunt him, tell him that this had been his plan all along? No. Scott wouldn’t do that, right? Stiles took a deep breath and cracked his door open.

“Send him up,” He called. Once Scott got to the door he braced himself against it and sat down, “Talk through the door. I don’t want to see you,” He said, coldly.

“Look, Stiles I didn’t know Jackson was going to walk in. If I had known that I would have locked the door. You have to believe me, okay. Look, I fucked up with the Allison thing, and now this, and I know the cards are stacked against me but. I’m sorry. Look, I need you Stiles, I told Jackson to fuck off, so if you don’t accept my apology then- then I’m going to be friendless,” Scott said placing his hand on the door, “And I can’t do this alone. You had to go through Jacksons wrath alone please don’t let me,” Scott asked closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Fine, but if you screw me over then I’ll kill you McCall. I will literally chop up your body and feed it to some pigs, or something,” Stiles said, pulling himself to his feet to open the door. 

Scott looked at Stiles a weak smile on his face as he reached up to wipe a tear away. “Don’t cry, I’m not going to hurt you. We’re going to get through this,” He said with a smile.

“Right,” Stiles said, rubbing his eyes then looking at Scott. They stood there in silence until Scott took Stiles hand and lead him over to the bed where the two lay down. Stiles pressed his back to Scott’s chest as Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles protectively. This was going to be the start of something great, or something terrible, neither of them knew which, but they knew they had each other.


End file.
